To You, I Wrote; My Letters, Bitter
by Unwritten
Summary: Aragorn happens to come across a box of letters written to a friend... But what is in them? Why do they hurt the reader so? Implied A/L slash; very dark/angsty. R/R!
1. Finding The Crude Package of Fate

 The King of Gondor paced uneasily after waiting to hear word of his wife's safe arrival to Lothlorien. As to why she was summoned suddenly became unclear, but it most likely had to do with an affair of her grandmother. Aragorn soon began to sift through the papers in his wife's large, chestnut desk, not expecting to find anything much or at all. Yet, what he did find intrigued him, in a sense.

By the dim candlelight of the room now draped in darkness, he looked, and searched, for anything of importance. Perhaps he would find something of old to help him relax, or something to remind him of his beloved wife. Finally, he produced from the last drawer a medium-sized box made of rowan wood with gilts set about the corners. The box was nowhere near the beauty of some of the things Arwen had owned.

Out of curiosity, Aragorn opened the box, and peered in it. He saw loads of papers, pens, envelopes, and folded pieces of paper, yet nothing that seemed important. To his first glance, it was merely a stationary set and nothing more. Nevertheless, as luck would have it, Aragorn's clumsy hands dropped the box, causing it to topple to the floor, contents spilling out. He managed to catch the box before it hit the tiled floor, and sighed in relief.

Stooping down to pick up the scattered papers, he noticed a large sheet of brown paper folded over something square-shaped, tied with twine. "It looks like a package a mere child would make," muttered the man, as he picked it up, inspecting it. Aragorn walked over to his wife's bedside and sat on it, while turning the bundle repeatedly. Curiosity killed the cat, and soon enough, Aragorn removed the twine with a knife, for it was tied too tightly for him to remove, and spread out the contents.

In the package were numerous dated parchments and letters, all from the same person, for the handwriting was the same. Figuring it was from Elrond, Aragorn smirked and thought aloud: "Well, let's have a see, shall we? Maybe her father will congratulate us on our city…" All the letters were together by date. The first one, marked as followed: '39 Tuilë', or May 6th. 

(Flashback)

"This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and to him you owe your allegiance," stated the clear, firm voice of the elf of Mirkwood. Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood—Thranduil's Realm, was he.

`Ham-ndu, Legolas, ` commanded the ranger as he gestured the righteous elf to sit by use of his hand. Aragorn sighed, and went back to listening to Lord Elrond discussing the matter at hand.

"Aragorn, hm? Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King," gruffly retorted Boromir of Gondor. He was not ready to let his pride for the Steward on Gondor go unseen. Never would he accept this man, Aragorn, as the un-crowned king of Gondor, and this he meant to show. Boromir and Legolas glared at each other for a few minutes in tension and hate, until the booming voice of Elrond caught their attention…

{Later that night, after the council.}

(Legolas' POV)

I had always heard stories of Aragorn from Elrond when I came to this city visiting Elrohir and Elladan, yet never in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined him being so… Well, quite regal. The man is mesmerizing… He has a strong voice, unwavering and sturdy. His face is hard-set and determined; his eyes are deep and offset the color of his mahogany hair. Clearly, he has 'royalty' written all over him in the purest of gold. I am amazed he spoke to me, seeing how I am not something of much importance, unlike Master Elrond.  

Now, I am on a mission, along with nine other creatures, to destroy the One… Moreover, Aragorn is our leader. The whole fact of him going made me speak up before even thinking rationally. Father told me that the Heirs of Isildur are known for their cunning. Perhaps Aragorn has ensnared me in some utterly hopeless spell. Nay, even if he did, I would not care. The man is a legend due to his bloodline, and I think I may like being sent off with him. Perhaps I could prove father wrong and Master Elrond right. Yes, that would do… It would ease my heart and its sinister convictions, with all due thanks to Thranduil…

{Present day, after the destruction of the One.}

To this day, I cannot believe I even wrote that as I now look back and upon my journal entries during the quest. It is preposterous to even imagine me concocting ideas such as those about someone I had only heard of, and never met. 

How foolish I was to ever think that Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was a great man of title and lineage. How foolish I was to ever look upon him and sigh in longing, and to take stands for him when he could not. The man has betrayed me in many ways, and of those acts, I would prefer not to speak. Yet, if it would ease your heart, my friend, I would tell you of them. I would tell you of how he left me that day, and why I am driven to madness and beyond, as I hold dear now. For, my friend, to see you weep for my own impetuous tendencies towards the mention of this man, is truly something I would like to behold no longer. 

To Be Continued.

Well, should I continue this? Does it seem interesting at all? Give me your opinions… Thanks!

**UPDATE 8/9/02**: The months have been updated into real elven dates, thanks to The Encyclopedia of Arda. The EoA states this about elven time:

The Reckoning of Rivendell or Imladris is the only recorded Elvish calendar. It contained six 'months' (more akin to seasons), rather than twelve, and its arrangement reflects the Elvish preference for counting in sixes and twelves. Because of their long lifespan, the Elves tended to divide time into Yéni of 144 years each, but they also had a period equivalent to a year, called a Loa or Coranar. 

Rather than adding one day every four years, as with the modern leap year, the Elves instead added three days every twelve years. In these years, the Enderi ('middle-days') of each year were doubled from the usual three to six. For precision, the last year of every third yén was shortened by three days, rather than lengthened (the last year of a yén was always a 'leap' year). This was a rare occurrence, happening only once every 432 years.

…Be that it may, I have still kept my 'Blue Moon' years and so on and so forth, for in the old calendars of past civilizations, the "color" and moon dignified the position in the sky, and the time of year… Tricky no? For once, I've done my homework! (research, really.) Anyways… Enjoy, review, rejoice at the reckoning of Imladris!


	2. Kainen en Lotesse, Luinithil

**45 Tuilë, Luin'ithil** (May 12th, Blue Moon.)

Yes, Arwen, do not fret. I think it is about time that at one of us knows the real reason why I disbanded from him willingly. Too much pain, too much sorrow and despair… He caused all of it. Now that I look back, it is hard to ever remember a time when he did not make my very soul quake in hurt. Nevertheless, I shall tell you, you have every right to hear the story. 

Now, I haven't the slightest of what he has informed you of, but do not let him play the fool and believe it… He is not entirely innocent in all this. I can start from the council, and I shall send re-written things that were in my journal from the Quest. Yes, every word that I wrote then shall be written again—yet it will be to you, Evenstar. I will write as much as I can each day, Arwen, so please, bear with me if I stop short.

"We have just set out on the quest. Once more, he intrigues me. I cannot describe the emotion I feel when I look at him, or when I hear his voice. He spoke to me again the night before we left, and told me many things, which I shall hold dear. He knows of my talent with a bow and is proud to have me on the Quest… I had so much to say to him, ever so much, but had I the heart to speak? Nay, of course I didn't…"

Arwen, I think I shall merely write to you what caused me to feel this way. No… That would also not do. You must know everything, even if it causes me to burn with embarrassment and shame from saying this about your then fiancée and your current husband. I shall continue…

"I think I love him, but as father would say, that I cannot judge. Unless my emotions are given back tenfold, it is merely lust and can never be. My father… He knows nothing of this—he never believed in true love, well, at least up until mother died. After she left, he had given up on all hope; everything romantic that ever lied within him had been stabbed by the black poison of a _yrch _blade. 

"He calls to me again, and I would write more, but it is he I wish to see. Fie—he waves me away, apologizing and saying he meant to call for the dwarf. Fie and spite. The dwarf does not deserve his attention and time—that is belittling to Aragorn…"

I think I hated Gimli mostly due to his race. I never trusted dwarves, and I think Gimli is the only dwarf I shall ever trust. He still dislikes elves, but that is to be assumed. Stubborn dwarf. 

"14 Yávië, Malina'ithil (August 15, Yellow Moon.)

"Moria indeed is a very dark place. I find it myself piteous to believe that Gandalf the Grey has passed into shadow and that we are now in Lothlorien with all due help from Haldir. Haldir… It surprises me to this day that he helped me, and consoled me of my fallen friend for so much had happened between us in the past. I was so bold to ask him why, and he told me as he always did: 'Middle Earth is too impure for your tears to reach the ground. Only Mandos deserves them.' No matter how hard I tried, Haldir would not stop caring for me… This makes me feel guilty and shameful, for I have turned away the love of someone like him in hopes of something better. 

"My heart tells me I could always turn to him, no matter what anyone did. Speaking of which, I shall write what something that made my heart sing… Aragorn had kissed me—believe it if I may, he truly did! Luckily, for me, it was deep in Moria, and the others were sleeping, so they did not see this fanciful display. Yes, I laugh now that I think of it—finding sleep in Moria? How impossible does that seem? Tis quite preposterous… Yet, it was done. Anyway, I was on watch and he could not sleep. He began to speak to me—in riddles it would seem, and as soon as I caught on to the riddles of which he spoke, I found them to be of me. He then leaned over and kissed me sweetly, tenderly… It was mesmerizing. I still have the brazen taste of him lingering upon my lips, and by that, I mean bold. 

"We are now in Lothlorien, and I still think of this happy moment, when I should be giving lament to Gandalf. It hurts me to think of such negative happenings, even though I know I must.

"28 Yávië, Malina'ithil (August 29, Yellow Moon.)

 "We have slain thousands of _yrch_ it would seem, for their countless bodies scatter the ground. Aragorn is tending to Gimli's wounds (I have already remedied mine) and then he shall tend to his own before we set off to find the two _periannath_ that were borne away by the remaining dreadful _yrch_. How I hate them so… They have caused us all hurt and pain, and I fear they shall torture then kill Merry and Pippin. Such kind souls are they—tis sad to see such a fate befall them."

I truly did feel sorrow for the _periannath_. Think of it this way, Arwen: think of a beautiful summer day in Rivendell—when the sun is shining with an unrelenting ethereal light, the birds are singing songs sweeter than anything anyone has ever murmured, and everything is at peace. Complete tranquility and heaven… Then suddenly, all of it is swept away in shadow, and a barren dead land remains. Bleached bones of carcass' picked dry by scavengers are scattered about and there are no trees… There are no elves… Only darkness. That is what it would be to see something as innocent as _periannath_ be harmed. Nevertheless…

"Aragorn sought me of late night in 'Lorien, he said he had something important to discuss. He began to speak of the Quest to me, and where we may go, and then talked of how sorrowful the loss of Mithrandir made him. Soon enough, the tables turned, and his lips were upon mine once more, a more deep and passion filled kiss he bestowed on me. He asked if I'd like him to take me, and then and there I made a fool out of myself—all I could do was nod vigorously and plead for him to enchant me once more. 

"What could I say of his performance? Besides the fact that I have never felt so lofty before, I am at a loss for words. I could never describe the feeling I had, and how many times I came close to release because of what he had done to me… Honestly, I act like a loon around the man, surely, he has a spell set upon me, there is no other explanation as to why I act irrationally and as to why my heart skips beats. 

"There is blood and sweat covering Aragorn, and it does not mar his handsome features, but only enhances them… Alas, he has noticed my staring and has acknowledged it. I have been lucky enough to control what colors my features are so that the dwarf cannot suspect anything. He is now telling us that we shall go, and I plan to follow him as best I can, though I am wary…

"2 Coirë, Carad'ithil (February 2, Red Moon.)

"We have reached Rohan again, finally, after many months of difficulty. One of the 'periannath' are with us again, and Gandalf has returned but in a higher form. How many 'yrchs' more we have killed amazes me, and I dare not count lest I become confused. Times are getting harder, and less hope blooms for Frodo and Sam in Mordor. There is talk that they are both dead, their heads stuck onto posts at the gates of Mordor as crude warnings to all those who oppose Sauron. Yet, that cannot be, for that would mean they have the Ring. That would mean we would all be long dead by now… On the other hand, could it possibly be that Sauron has a strategy this time? Nay, I shudder at the thought of it…"

            Sauron has no strategy, and he never will because his very essence no longer exists and has faded away into complete and utter nothingness. This is quite a good thing. Too bad for me that some things (or people, for that particular matter) cannot fade away entirely. My hands are now steeped in the blood of battle and wrath, something I can never wash away. It is the fate of all who dwell in Ea, for at one time in our lives we must kill to protect something else. Anyway, back onto the last bit of the entry.

"Away with these foul thoughts, I must keep them away. I shall think of him again. My lust and want for him grows yet once more, though he has bedded me in the wild while Gimli slept. No matter how many times I am ravaged by him, I feel the same… Perhaps I feel even more so for him by each passing time. Whatever is happening to me, it is indescribable and I cannot even formulate it into words. I know he is to wed Arwen Undomiel the Evenstar, but he claims he loves me not her, and shall find a way around this hurdle. Even though this will hurt Arwen, I shall be at much joy… I am truly sorry Arwen, but I do not think I am capable of loving another."

            That is all I am able to scribe for today, Arwen. My heart grows weak, and a shadow passes over me, like an irremovable haze or cloud. I shall be fine in the end, however, so do not worry for me. I can always sing and talk to the other elves of late. Yet do write back soon, Arwen, for I would like to know if you wish for me to go on… Moreover, I wish to know if you think of me as a complete liar yet.

Namaarië. 

{Present day.}

Aragorn's mind was swimming—all these letters were from Legolas, someone whom he had not seen in what seemed like forever! Suddenly, he finds a box of letters from him to his wife on the day she leaves also; all this seems too suspicious to the man, and he decides to read on, throwing aside all respect for their privacy. "I have every right to know, too, Legolas," muttered the man, with a disapproving tone in his voice akin to anger and jealousy. Aragorn had missed the elf, though he did not show it, and seeing his script and remembering what the two had shared sent a dull throb to ring throughout his heart. 

Everything seemed to be going against Aragorn, King of Gondor. Jealousy soon crept up on him, and he contemplated with the idea of his wife having an affair with the Sylvan elf. The thoughts were swept away as quickly as they had come, for Aragorn remembered of their friendship in the past, and Arwen's loyalty—after all, she _had_ given up **her** immortality to stay with him… 

To be continued.


	3. Atta-kainen ar-Er en Lotesse, Luinithil

**54 Tuilë****, Luin'ithil** (May 21st, Blue Moon.)

            I think I may have found strength enough to write you this week, Evenstar. I thought that this could be easy, for I am merely writing, but I have found it more difficult with each passing day. I cannot count how many pieces of parchment I have brought to ruin with my indecisive mind, and numerous scratches and blots of ink from my quill. Nonetheless, write on I shall, for you have requested it in your own state of awareness. 

            It is also a comforting thought that you do not think me as a complete fool or liar just yet, Arwen. I am glad your husband's repercussions have not warped your judgment just yet. Yes, it is sad that he has told you things of my parting… Please Arwen, once more I shall beg of you—make absolutely sure that he sees naught of these letters ever. If he ever knew I was still wandering Middle Earth or knew of my location, he would seize me as swift as the wind does to a swallow caught in an updraft… I do not wish to see him for quite some time, Arwen. I beg of you to hide these letters—to lock them away somewhere, or to keep them somewhere where only you could ever find again.

            I thank you again, Lady, for your understanding and patience. I shall go on for as long as I can…

"5 Coirë, Carad'ithil(February 5, Red Moon.)

"Whether or not he had done it intentionally, Aragorn had hurt me the other night during our lovemaking. He began to bite roughly on the nape of my neck, and I began to bleed. I did not notice it, but it is swollen now, and burns to the touch. I am trying to keep the wound from his sight, but lately, he seems to notice everything… He was once a strong and proud man with patience, yet now it would seem he is apt to react sharply when something of misfortune happens… On the other hand, when anything happens it would seem he acts so. Even the smallest slip-up in the brigade and Aragorn is yelling at them as though they have set fire to a great forest.

"What has come over my love? It pains me to seem him so over-emotional and out of touch with himself. I do not like the aggressive part of him at all. It scares me and everyone else that knew the calmer version of him. I managed to talk to him about this, and my answers were gruff and thrown at me like stones into a still pool of water. They shook me. 'War changes all, even the best of us. If we do not cease our meddling around, we shall get nowhere, and we shall all perish. You, Legolas, are keeping us back for you still have compassion about the Quest at hand. In war, you can have no heart. There is no heart in war.' … 

"What he had said… It brought tears of remorse to my cerulean eyes. I hate war. I always have. I remember when I was a youngling, and father had gotten back from an uprising in Southern Mordor. He was covered in the black blood of his foes… And the blood of his comrade. I cried at the loss of my father's friend, for he was a kind soul. Father then told me to never cry; that I was weak for doing so. I think father was hurt more so than angry at me, but the words still yet ring throughout my mind, clear and pristine like the river Celebrant…"

            It was then when Aragorn began to change into a bloodthirsty, cold, and heartless person that I am so familiar with now. Maybe what they said about men are true—their hearts, easily swayed and weak, have tendencies to wander off course when things go awry and become difficult. It would seem as a calling to the burden in my heart to believe this, but some inextinguishable pyre in my heart will not let it be. To lift this smokescreen of hate and ridicule from my heart would be grand, but I cannot find any repair in near. Haldir is of no help, since he is busy tending to the Lady of the Wood and her troubles. Haldir, _amin_ _voronwen_… 

"Maybe Aragorn too is hurt at the thought of there being chance that all whom dwell on Middle Earth shall perish. I hope that it is so, for I long to see the man I once knew again…

"23 Coirë, Carad'ithil (February 23, Red Moon.)

"I cannot say much. I feel that with each passing day our link grows weak. Aragorn is more enveloped in battle tactics—so much so that he hasn't the time to even speak with me briefly. I try not to show how this affects me, but it becomes more difficult and dreary with each passing day. In addition, I find it that many of the men soldiers stare at me suggestively, for I am an elf. A few of them even confronted me and spoke to me of things I would rather not remember… Gimli, luckily, managed to drive them all off. A friendship has formed between the dwarf and I ever since the man has stopped giving me notice. 

"At least I have someone to talk to, even if it is Gimli. The dwarf is actually quite a good-hearted soul. Once one surpasses his outer layer of gruffness and abruptness, he is actually somewhat keen to have around. He speaks to me of caves that glimmer of sheer beauty and magnificence. Gimli seems to be quite fond of the caves, and I have agreed with him to visit them once the Quest is through. That is, also, if he agrees to see the vast forests of Fangorn, which are of a more immense beauty than any cave…

"29 Coirë, Carad'ithil (March 1, Red Moon.)

"Mordor has begun its attacks upon us. Fire, arrows, stones, and oil rain down upon us over the outer walls, along with bodies of their own soldiers. I have been struck numerous times by raining objects, and have been lucky enough to deflect many blows with my silver _mithril_ shield. However, many have not had the luck, or the shield, that I possessed, and their bodies lay scattered about the ground. A shadow looms over the whole area menacingly, causing many to shake uncontrollably and to go numb. Nazgul in the sky shriek terrible, ear-piercing cries that chill us to the bone. Gimli stood strong and firm at the enemies ahead, as did I, yet I could not help but shiver at the thought of an on-coming frontal assault. 

"I do not think Middle Earth has, or will, see a battle this immense since the First Age in the First Battle of the One. Mordor attacks swift and hard, never relenting or stopping, for the _yrch_, goblins, Uruk-Hai, and other various demons from its black depths do not know pain or sorrow. All they know is to destroy, and that they have done. My body is marked with many cuts and bruises from one-on-one attacks and aerial threats, but besides that, I am still well. I am merely taking time to rest my feet as ordered by a man outside the walls, and then I shall head back into the bloodbath that is behind me. 

"I can hear faintly the cries and screams of fallen men and howls from the dying creatures of Mordor. I feel pity for the innocent men that are dying; yet, I feel no sorrow at all for our foes. I feel as though I am needed back in battle, for the helpless cries of my comrades' calls to me. I merely hope that I can return and write of my conquest…"

            I feared going out to the battlefield once more. I knew it was my duty to do so, yet somehow, I wished it not. There was so much bloodshed—I had seen this before, but not so much. Figuring I would be used to it, I did not refuse to fight. As to why I became so emotional over it… I still have no account of that. 

"32 Coirë, Carad'ithil (March 4, Red Moon.)

"Mithrandir came! He is back, and helped us fight! I had not seen him during the war, and it was a relief when I set eyes upon him again. The battle of late started out with a nauseating turn. A seemingly living Nazgul or another creature of disgusting sorts came forward in the front line of his army at the Gates of Mordor and spoke to us. He cast down Frodo and Sam's cloaks, a brooch of Lothlorien, and the short-sword Sam had once carried. Then he proceeded to give us choices that seem all but unforgiving—he told us that we could either let Sauron enslave all of Middle Earth or fight against him and let Frodo endure the torments of the Tower for the ages.

"I had thought Gandalf would have given in, but nay—he swiftly grabbed the garments of them in remembrance and charged onward to the enemy. All hope seemed lost, for the _yrch_ came from the hills, their numbers too many, and surrounded our army. Trolls, Nazgul, Uruk-Hai mixed with other evils came onward at us, and charged, screaming a revolting cry of timbre and noise as they hewed at the men as if they were underbrush or weeds. I fought fiercely, adrenaline pumping throughout me as my heart raced and my sword sought the bodies and blood of my adversaries. 

"Surely though we all fought brutally and best we could, hoping to die in honor if nothing else good would come from this. Suddenly, as quick as it came, the battle began to dwindle down, and Eagles were seen over-head… After that, it was pretty much a blur. I had received many wounds and was losing a lot of my blood, so I became dizzy and soon blacked-out. Fortune smiled upon me though, for I did not contract the black sickness that plagued many of the wounded. I am still healing now as I write, but I have been informed of Sam and Frodo's safe return. The Ring was destroyed after all, and I rejoice at that… At least not all was in vain.

"I press the attendants for news of Aragorn, but no one can tell me much. I am in a room with many men I know naught of, and I will be able to roam about the city as I wish in a day. Being bedridden—ah, how I loathe it! Though, sleep is a promising vision that I have taken advantage of, for fatigued have I been of late…

"34 Coirë, Carad'ithil (March 6, Red Moon.)

"The healers have allowed me to leave my bed in the Houses of Healing, and are permitting me to walk freely about the city. I have decided to help with cleaning the place up of dead bodies, dirt, grime, and blood. Soon I shall help rebuild homes that were set aflame from the rain of fire in the first siege. Yet, due to the fact of the lack of wood, many of the homes were made of stone, it is mainly the roofs of the buildings that need repair. Aragorn insists that I lay to rest and recover before doing anything. I am just about fully healed, thanks to my elven healing ability, and I see no problem with helping those around me. Why Aragorn sees me as something to protect or as fragile, I do not understand, but I surely am not either of these. 

"Gimli is faring quite well, and he seems very concentrated on fixing the city up, more than tending to his own problems. He is helping me help the others, and again I am thankful for his company. We both exchange the count of fallen combatants to one another, and we have come out at a tie of sorts. I smiled at that, and he tells me that is the first smile I have had in days, maybe even weeks. It feels like much longer to me…"

            I knew Gimli considered me as a friend at that moment. It comforted me to harbor the thought, for I felt at loss for companionship with anyone. I remember him telling me other things, but I cannot clearly remember everything he had said. Knowingly, I have forgotten much that I did not scribe right away.

"…I looked upon Merry and Pippin, they seem to be doing better than they first had. Both had come near to death, but with aid from the people of Gondor, they recovered. Eowyn of Rohan apparently followed us in to battle and nearly died of the sickness, but was healed by Aragorn. Frodo and Sam are under close watch inside the castle, and I dare not venture in there yet. I figure I shall look upon the gentle _periannath_ as soon as they regain their inner brightness… Pending if they ever do. Poor Frodo…

"45 Coirë, Carad'ithil (March 17, Red Moon.)

"He hurts me with his ever unceasing show of emotion. Can he not be true to me? Can he not tempt and taunt me any longer? My heart is being torn due thanks to his antics…"

            Alas! Dearest Arwen, I cannot scribe any more… My tears flow unrelenting from my eyes and are threatening to land on my parchment. Apologize if I may, but I have become emotional again. Forgive me, fair lady, but I must cease this for today. I promise you I shall continue, for it is now something I feel obliged to do for myself. Please, do understand me when I say harsh words. I am afraid I have been through much. This is none of your pain, and I shall not make it so, dear Arwen. Write to me again as soon as you may, and I shall try to recompose myself in a day or so. Sooner shall I, if my ever-tiring heart permits…

Namaarië. 

{Gondor, Present.}

Aragorn set the letter aside, slight tears welling in his eyes. Something in his soul forced tears to the man's eyes, and he truly had no account of as to why they laid there. To him, Legolas seemed to write with much sorrow, and he felt oddly at this. "Tis merely a piece of paper," muttered the man. "Nothing more. He merely wrote to Arwen… There is no meaning behind this." A steady tear made its way silently and unseen down Aragorn's face. "Nothing more…"

To be continued.


	4. Kainen ar-nelde en Narie, Luinithil

**23 Lairë, Luin'ithil** (June 13th, Blue Moon.)

            I have not written to you for quite some time, and of this, I am aware. Your numerous letters to me helped me to start this new one, Arwen. I thank you. It is just that… I get angry while writing these. Hah, the last time I grew so angered I drove a dagger into my leather-bound journal from the Quest… I even managed to get the blade into the table beneath it. Tis utterly childish of me to do so yet I am quick to anger these days, especially when it involves matters with him.

            A visit from you would be most unnecessary, Lady. Please do not waste your time coming to see me when it is not needed. I acknowledge the offer, and I do thank you for your concern. I shall write as much as I may today also. Please bear with my scribing, I managed to hurt my writing hand out on a hunt…

            I believe this was where I left off:

"45 Coirë, Carad'ithil (March 17, Red Moon.)

"He hurts me with his ever unceasing show of emotion. Can he not be true to me? Can he not tempt and taunt me any longer? My heart is being torn due thanks to his antics, and I grow weary of them. So riled has he gotten me—I made a crude effigy of him and burned it in a fire earlier this day; this is how much he has caused me pain. I wish to see him hurt. Be it emotionally or physically, I wish to seem him crying out in pain—pure _suffering_. 

"Why—nay, _how _ has he hurt me this time? Even after everything he had once shared with me, even recently, he still plans to wed the Evenstar! Aragorn told me he would release himself from her, but that dream can never be… How foolish can I be? Am I a mortal? If not, why then am I so naïve? I want answers to all these, and make haste—for someone, I beg of anyone to answer this! 

"I cannot tell Aragorn how outraged I am. Even I know exactly why I cannot: I still love him. Though he has hurt me numerous times with his silken tongue, with his endless lies, I still love him. Blast! Blast being immortal and an elf! I shall be forced to bare this torment and knowledge until the end of my days! This—bitterness, how can it be residing in me? Nay, the love—I wish that to flee from my saddened heart for eternity! 

"I fear that if he had not just taken me again that this would be easier to bear. Of course, it must be hard for my heart now, though. I shall not make an appearance at their wedding, however… I fear my very soul could not withstand seeing it… Their nuptial shall be in the coming of two moons. I hope that I shall be far away from their merriment by that time…"

"18 Lairë, Carad'ithil (June 8, Red Moon.)

"Two moons or so have passed, and this is the day they finally plan to wed. The wedding would have been sooner if it had not been for the foul weather (it's just a spot of rain!). I hoped I would be far away from this place, but nay—here I still yet am. Frodo and Gimli were my reasons to stay—I wanted to see Frodo when he was well, and Gimli seemed so fond of seeing Arwen once more. I sigh every minute it would seem, for my heart is heavy on my breast and it weighs me down. I am trying to numb myself, but it seems quite difficult. I am planning to leave unnoticed during the wedding when everyone is gathering. I also plan to go no place near Aragorn—I do not even wish to _see_ him…"

"66 Lairë, Carad'ithil (July 26, Red Moon.)

"I have not written for quite some time due to my uncontrollable emotions. I could not steady my hand at times to write, but now I am glad to see that I can. As hoped, I escaped Gondor with no one giving me any notice. I grabbed my pack, shield, sword, bow and arrows and headed off. Of course, I did manage to catch a glance of Arwen in her splendor on my way out from an alley. My word, she was beautiful—her joy emanated from her and she sparkled underneath the sun. I am happy for her, truly.

"I am surprised no one even knew of my leaving. I am surprised Mithrandir did not stop me. However, I do not care—it was best that I went unnoticed and unheeded. There was no reason for any of them to adhere to my being there, for I did not wish to, nor was I deserving. Now I am somewhere near Rhún and its forests, hiding away for as long as I may. Conveniently enough, the dark creatures that once roamed over Rhún are now gone—killed because the One was destroyed. The One Ring was their creator, and since Sauron's soul was bound to it, his evils are dead. All is well now, I am living quite well, considering to where I could be at the moment…"

            You were indeed beautiful, Arwen. I could have wept at the sight of you on that day, but my heart was blackened with disdain, hatred, sorrow, and remorse from your husband. An image of you on that day appears in my mind when I look upon the white Lily's of Lothlorien and I feel a light shine in me, for you were beauteous that day, _mellonamin_. 

"69 Lairë, Carad'ithil (July 29, Red Moon.)

"I have been weeping for many days now, and I find myself feeling at loss and alone in this place. I do not wish to see people, be they elf or human, for I am afraid of what I may do if I look upon one. On the verge of inflicting wounds upon myself, I have decided to write—to put off the inevitable for a while longer. I cannot see at all, for my eyes are much to blurred with the moisture of sorrow and woe. I cannot formulate how I feel now. I shall try though… I must. 

"Rueful and sorrowful am I. I regret leaving, I regret not telling him those three words… '_Amin mela lle_.' O, why could I not have spoken them? I could—nay, should have muttered them to him before he did anything more to harm me further. I lost my pride when he broke my heart. I lost my trust in him. I still love him, but I hate him. With a **passion**.

"Ireful and enraged am I. I wish to lash out on someone—anything, just to see the look of hurt… To know they feel pain… To hope that maybe they can feel the pain that resides inside me now, to feel the curdling, sinking feeling inside. The feeling that makes my blood boil with hatred. Malice is surging within me…"

"Weary and run-down. From all the stress I have brought upon myself, I feel fatigued. Run-down and weary… It is very tiring to feel so much all at once—to try to rationalize all these feelings all at once. I can bear no longer to have them reside within me. I could sleep for days—for an eternity. That could not be long… besides; he would be dead in that time. Maybe then I could heal. If only…"

"I am heart-broken. Without a doubt. My heart has been torn in twice two pieces, and then some. The specks of sand upon a shore could not be the size of my heart, for they are dust, even thin as air. I feel more tears come again, and my stomach is beginning to somersault with hate and sorrow. I feel like I could retch up all of my internal organs. Maybe letting a wild beast feast on them would ease me.

"What the fates and Valar have foreordained has come upon me in torrents. I must quit writing, lest my blood be spilled upon these pages and further mar my existence…"

            I hurt myself so badly that day I nearly died. Sometimes I wish I had though… Yet, Haldir is glad that I did not. Hearing that made me happy, I would guess. I must cease this letter Arwen. I hope to write you once more before…

Namaarië.

{Gondor, Present.}

Aragorn was stunned into being speechless. His heart sank, and he hurried to read on, in fear of what could happen next…

To be continued.

(the next chapter will probably be the last everyone—I'm glad you've enjoyed this!!)


	5. Nelde-kainen en Yavannie, Luinithil

**3 Quellë, Luin'ithil** (September 30th, Blue Moon.)

I know not when it left me

Nor do I when it came

But the feeling hath subsided

To feel as though I have bled all I can

And though I bleed no more

Everything has burdened my heart

And of which I have sought solace in nights of long ago

Though do not weep when I am thither

From hither will I go

Miss me, I ask of you not

For now, it shall matter of ought.

If I have learned anything, and more that I can know

Someone was always there to listen…

Even if it helped me none.

            I never knew it, but some things are best left unsaid. Some people are best left alone, and unattended. Some things were just never meant to be. I thought I could have let it go, but I am starting to contemplate whether it would be worth it or not. I am unsure for the fate that I could chose may be far worse than my current disposition. However, I would be free… 

            Do not blame all this entirely on him. However, I do hate him with a passion now, and long to feel his hand smite me. For those whom She wishes to smite shall be smote and I fear that I am one. I fear that I have felt a love that was unfair to fate, and it was never meant to be. Now I must go hence forth from this place so I can be alone to think for quite some time. Living alone shall not be too hard, shall it?

            When I think that, I think of how it pained me so… Yet, I must move on. But… Nay. Nay—I must go on, Arwen. If only I could find another way—another outlet or something to avoid it all. I wish I never met him… My heart wrings with sorrow.

            Blast! Spite! Everything seems so tempting. Haldir has been no help to me though he has tried hard. I cannot believe in the lie of a false love and connection that you spoke to me of in Rohan last month, Arwen. I cannot believe that! I will not allow it to be true…

            They say that someone can be saved by something, Arwen. It is inevitable and will always happen. Chance I test this theory? Would the fate guide me towards the one that would save me? I thought I found it long ago, but the only thing of solace I found was in my mind, my dreams. My solace of sanity quickly turned to aught, and I had nothing except my wild ideals and dreams—things of my subconscious that could never be fulfilled. Had I died in battle, I would have been better off. At least, then I would have known someone loved me, or thought that—in the very least!

            Nevertheless, in the bleak disposition I have dwindled myself down into, burrowing past the last boundaries of a sane life, I find living through the ages alone a bit too difficult to bear. I know not when this shall reach you, Arwen, but I shall always know this:

            Someone always was there to listen… 

            Someone was always there when all else failed…

            So now, I do let go. 

            I would like it to be known to you that I tried loving Haldir as he did me, but I could not bare to burden him with my emotional problems… _Amin hireatha_. To you and him.

Namaarië. 

{Gondor, Present.}

A rapping was heard on the chambered door of the room Aragorn was currently in. Letting the visitor in, Aragorn found it to be a messenger, and he held a saddened look.

"What news of late, sir?"

"Sire… Your wife brings tidings, and she hath gone to Lothlorien safely," the man stopped short.

"Well, why do you carry the saddened face?"

"With much woe, she also sent word of Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood being found dead in 'Lorien."

End

**_Note: I will write a sequel for those who wish for one, though I will only do so if I get 20-so reviews on this… Thanks for reading!_


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